


Inferno (The Love on the Run Remix)

by navaan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Developing Relationship, F/F, On the Run, POV Female Character, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Protective Natasha Romanov, Remix, Romance, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-26 06:10:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7563313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/pseuds/navaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>After everything, she’s still a lover and she still knows loyalty.</i><br/>Love on the run may just be the little spark this fire needed to become an inferno.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inferno (The Love on the Run Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thecarlysutra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlysutra/gifts).
  * Inspired by [love on the run like a loaded gun](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7134911) by [thecarlysutra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlysutra/pseuds/thecarlysutra). 



> You can also read this story and comment on it on Livejournal [here](http://navaan.livejournal.com/292180.html). Feel free to friend or contact me there.

For Natasha, love has always been a complication. Like all complications she avoids them as much as she’s looking forward to them. She has been taught to use love against her opponents and that is how she learned that it can be used against her just as easily. 

It never stops her. Not for long. She lives too close to the edge.

In her line of work, she knows that you live like a ghost and only stop because you crash and burn when you get careless. The Red Room wanted her to realize that killing is a symphony, fighting a beautiful ballet of moving bodies and strict choreography. She remembers her lessons. What she learned is that life in all it’s vibrant inconsistency is dance, violent or sweet, fast or slow. You didn't get to choose the music, but stopping means the dance is over.

So after everything, she’s still a lover and she still knows loyalty. Loyalty to her own. But love is a sweet dream and loyalty is real.

Now her family is falling apart though and it scares her.

She watches Tony sit in his office everyday trying to keep things from getting worse, but she can tell by the creases around his unsmiling mouth that it’s not getting better. Not by a long shot.

“Do we know where they are?” she asks casually and very quietly, when their paths cross in the kitchen. She knows how often Tony needs coffee, so the kitchen is always a good place for an ambush. She knows that Tony, even when he’s been wounded, is not as petty and stubborn as he wants the rest of the world to believe. He too knows how to walk his path alone, watching your back every step of the way. And still he understands loyalty even when he isn’t always so good with communicating with the people he’s loyal to. The time he spends with Rhodey, quietly supporting or loudly laughing and bantering like everything is fine tells the true story.

“Would we do something about it if we did?” Tony asks and takes a sip of his black coffee.

She quirks an eyebrow and he shrugs.

They tax each other silently for more than a minute. 

“I made a call at the airport and I’d do it again.” The comment isn’t meant to taunt him, just to make her position clear. 

He watches her over the cup of coffee and shrugs one final time, before he walks out. 

She knows he knows something. He knows she wants to know it. Now it’s just a question of getting the information she needs. Tony spends an hour talking to T’Challa via video conferencing, but all snippets of the conversation she catches are about lobbying for a better accord with his Majesty’s support, and something about technical innovation. 

Because she misses all her favorite opponents in the training room, she walks back to her own quarters and instead ends up standing in the middle of Wanda’s small room. It’s the room of a young woman. Natasha can’t relate. And can.

Steps.

She turns. 

Tony stands in the doorway. He holds a thick manila folder and his expression is somewhere between tight and trying to be level. “This is it,” he says and holds it out. “Everything. Wanda may be in more trouble than is good for her.”

She stares. He shrugs.

The spy in her investigates her own tells immediately. While Tony Stark is a genius in many areas, he’s not usually that observant. But of course she’s standing in her empty room and Tony has been driven by the need to make things right in so many ways over the years, that Natasha isn’t surprised by what she finds inside the folder - and then his comment makes sense. There are charts. There are plans. Military and all possible agencies have gathered up what SHIELD left behind, what Hydra created and lost. Steve Rogers has always been a person of interest. He’s the created supersoldier who gives them the dangerous hope of an army.

And Wanda…

Wanda was created, too. She's another experiment that had results.

But she means so much more to them… to Tony… to Natasha.

She never really investigated her own feelings. This is not the time. And is.

Tony doesn’t say: “Find her.” He doesn’t say: “Warn them.” 

He just leaves the folder with her and goes back to building and innovating and politics, to keeping the wolves at bay. Apparently he has decided where he’ll be holding the line.

Natasha is going to do what she does best. She's going to slip through the cracks and dance on the edge.

* * *

“Natasha!” Wanda cries out when she sees her, surprised. She holds her hands apart, ready to call her powers to aid her. The last thing Natasha wants is for Wanda to draw more attention. Her fingers close around Wanda’s wrist and it’s like an electric jolt goes through both of them - Wanda’s power or something much more powerful, much more scary. She feels the spark of true excitement.

“I don't know where you are,” Natasha says, carefully accentuating her words. “I never saw you. Because you were never here.”

Wanda’s eyes widen. Natasha doesn’t let go of her wrist.

This is where the glow of interest she’s never really stopped to investigate sparks into real fire. She doesn’t let go of Wanda’s wrist as she pulls her along. Then they run together hand in hand.

For Natasha it’s the perfect start.

* * *

She’s a lover and Wanda is light and dark and danger and grace - a young woman who has gone through a lot in a short time and still a power to be reckoned with. She's a spy. And Wanda? Wanda has no idea how to be on the run alone.

“Where is everybody?”

Natasha shrugs. “Clint sends greetings.”

“How do you even know that?”

Natasha silently shows her the coded message. 

“You are not even on the run, are you?”

Wanda has asked the question before. This time Natasha answers her by kissing her with all the fire she’s feeling. This is still a dance and Natasha is a dancer. But Wanda is catching up. She learns the steps. She spins, moving her body in time with her own. Natasha teases her, draws her tongue into her own mouth, makes Wanda kiss her like she’s the one who started it, like she’s the aggressor in this peacefully intense scenario. 

They haven’t even done more than kissing yet, but Natasha feel the wetness between her legs and can’t stop thinking about Wanda’s shapely legs or how her breast will fill her hand so nicely, how her skin will feel against her own.

They don’t do anything more that night either. But Natasha closes her arms around Wanda and pulls her into a close dance, body against body. Wanda accepts her lead and gracefully moves with her around the small room.

“We are in this together. Trust me, Wanda.”

Wanda sighs. Her lips are red and swollen and she’s so desirable in her unguarded, unstudied, slightly overwhelmed innocence. It’s so deceptive. It's so true. “What happens now?”

“Now? Now we bleach your hair, darling,” she whispers. 

Just for a second Wanda looks sad. Then she nods. “I trust you,” she says and when she is the one to lock her fingers around Natasha’s wrist to pull her along to the tiny bathroom, her thumb stroking over Natasha’s pulse. True love, the love outside the fire, the love outside the loyalty she feels for the people she lets close, outside of bedrooms and naked bodies, has been a secondary concern for so long, that she forgot how dangerous it is.

She’s the moth drawn to the flame. 

The romance feels so strong, so innocent and too perfect, that she wonders if it’s Wanda’s powers bleeding into her thoughts. Wanda may not even be aware she’s influencing her. They end up making out, before they even get to wash Wanda’s hair though and that feels real. This feels like all the things Natasha has been thinking of and tried to ignore. She’s not being influenced, she just caught fire.

Love on the run.

It’s like she wrote the book.

* * *

She teaches Wanda how to hold a gun and shoot, because she wants Wanda to be able to defend herself without the use of her powers. Because her powers will identify her. Because her powers can be dampened, taken away.

They make love for the first time after. She makes Wanda, who is now a cute blonde with shoulder long straight hair, come undone on her fingers. She wants to keep her here, keep her close, make her cry out and come all over again. Over and over.

“You’re safe with me.”

Wanda, still shivering from her orgasm, nods. “I’m on the run and for some reason I’ve never felt safer.”

At her core Natasha is still the Black Widow and she doesn’t feel safe anywhere. Wanda will have to learn that living on the run is to always look over your shoulder. The dance of love and danger and sex and true intimacy - it makes Natasha feel alive; like everything is worth it.

And Wanda is safe.

She doesn’t know yet in how much danger she was in before.

Natasha has seen all the papers Tony leaves conveniently somewhere where she can take a glance and walk on. People with powers are sought after assets, as much as they are threat. But there seems to be a growing subset of people in power who hope for them to make even more mistakes. When the public completely turns on superheroes, they will make the most valuable lab rats.

Wanda has talked about how bad it felt to be locked away with her powers muted, like part of her had been locked up; dead. Natasha wants her to never feel that again. With Wanda she feels protective; she feels alive.

“You were my first kiss,” Wanda whispers.

The burning need for something more swells inside of her. “I want you so much,” she admits, her lips pressed against Wanda’s neck. “There’s so much more I want to show you.”

* * *

She’s not on the run, when she’s an Avenger. Not yet. The worry lines on Tony’s face tell her that it’s going to take a lot of work to secure their position.

Tony sits at the table in thir kitchen, wearing reading glasses as if he needs them, and works through another stack of paper. “You look happy,” he says. “Any news on our girl Wanda?”

She thinks of pretty and brave Wanda, building a new life not too far away from them, buying them silk sheets and pretending to be nothing more than a bartender living with her complicated lover.

“I haven’t seen her. Don’t know where she is.”

The corners of his lips do that little dance, before he settles for a half-serious expression. His eyes are still on whatever it is he’s reading. “Good.”

No folder is shoved her way and no new warning is implied. “How is Steve?” she asks, because some things make a lot more sense, when you recognize the signs. They are a big messed up family after all. 

Tony huffs and his brow creases. “No idea. Don’t care actually.”

“Of course,” she says and smiles. He doesn’t smile back. She guesses that any meeting he had with any of the others must have been complicated - and so much less pleasurable than her secret romance. “I’ll be away for a few days, looking for leads,” she tells him, before slipping out the door.

“Take your time.” He keeps his eyes on the documents. “Just resurface when we need you. And… stay safe.”

It’s an un-Tony thing to say. She winks at him.

* * *

“Welcome home,” Wanda says with her chirpy, studied “Wendy” voice they have practiced together, when Natasha turns up on her doorstep and two neighbors are in earshot. She looks good. Natasha is wearing a black wig.

They both look good.

Life on the run, sure suits both of them. 

The fire is still simmering, but Natasha isn't afraid of burning anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me on [tumblr ](http://navaan.tumblr.com/). This fic has a post [on there](http://navaan.tumblr.com/post/148627727644/inferno-the-love-on-the-run-remix) in case you want to comment/review/reblog there. [My ask box](http://navaan.tumblr.com/ask) is open if you have questions.


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